


What is done out of love

by lyonessheart



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Getting Back Together, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-10
Updated: 2015-03-10
Packaged: 2018-03-17 04:16:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3515057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyonessheart/pseuds/lyonessheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco was sure that he had done the right thing for Harry. He tried to do something good for once only to learn that things that you do out of love always take place beyond good and evil. Maybe now he can find out what they both need.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What is done out of love

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Black Island](https://archiveofourown.org/works/862741) by [Oakstone730](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oakstone730/pseuds/Oakstone730). 



> Dear oakstone730, I remember when I first read the original story. I was thinking that I would love to know what Draco was thinking about the entire affair and how it could have gotten this far. And the quote by Friedrich Nietzsche _What is done out of love always takes place beyond good and evil._ suits the actions of all of our participants. I have kept all of the dialogues as you have written them, because I wanted to tell your story through Draco's eyes. 
> 
> I would like to thank my beta Firethesound, and of course the mods for having unending patience with me! You rock!

  


**Day One**

I thought that Granger understood why I left, that she has not carried a grudge towards me. But when I receive the memo, I am uneasy. She is the Ministry's Commissioner of International Relations and has the power to send me to Ulanbator if she thinks it is needed. Lately she has been even shorter with me than she used to. I know that things are hard, but at least being professional should be possible. Merlin knows it's been three years. Enough time to get over a lot of things. At least that is my opinion.

But it is only when I open to door and see just who stands on the other side of the room that I realize just how pissed she must be with me if she decides to torture Potter with me. Thinking of him as Potter is the only way that I can get through a meeting with him. Remembering what she has written in the memo that I got this morning leaves me even more uneasy. I have to play this cool, let them think that I am entirely unaffected by the unfortunate affair. At least I know that I look good in the slate blue robes that I wear in my official role as Master of the Ministry's Potions Department.

Potter has teased me more than once about my eyes fitting the robes and me being predestined to take the job because nobody else would be able to pull the robes off as well. Fuck this, I would rather die than admit that his presence is a punch to the gut, my eyes never leaving Potters face as I address the woman responsible for this mess.

“For this Granger, you will accept my expense report without question; even if I decide to buy a mob of emus and have them shipped to Britain on flying carpets” I sit down in the chair and address Potter who looks as if his is ready to throttle Granger. “Close your mouth Harry!” His name on my tongue feels so familiar that it almost hurts to say it out loud, but there is no use, I burned my bridges with him, I had to. Now we need to figure out what she wants from both of us.

Granger rushes to explain. “Harry, there is no choice. They requested a potions master and a curse breaker, you two are the best in your respective fields, and everyone knows it. We need to show the New Zealanders that we are serious about helping and that means you two will need to work together on this!” And fuck if that isn't true, we are the best there is. We will need to live for an entire week together, my gut clenches at the thought, but I pull myself together. I managed to survive three years fooling the people around us; I think I can fool him for a week.

I feel the familiar knot of pain in my chest but I refuse to give Harry any indication that this is anything but another job. I retreat behind the Malfoy mask when Harry addresses me with obvious discomfort

“Are you okay with this?”

Fuck no! I am not okay with this, I want to yell and rant and rave. However, I cannot very well let him know that I have no idea how to survive in his proximity for an entire week. I know that he would be rather anywhere else with anybody but me, and it hurts. I do what I have always done best in such a situation. I turn into an arse.

“It’s a job, Potter. Don’t worry, I think I can restrain from throwing myself at you.” I don't enjoy his flinch but I need to put it like this to restrain myself from yelling at Granger. I have been doing so well with avoiding being in Harry's proximity and now we will be stuck together for an entire week. I am adding for a good measure “At least it’s summer in New Zealand, getting away from this dismal winter will make up for the...inconvenience.”

Harry turns back to Hermione, dismissing me effectively. “Fine. When do we leave?” I won't admit that it rankles. But it is what I wanted.

Granger returns to Harry all business-like. “I’ve prepared a dossier, with the names and background on the officials you’ll be meeting.” She hands a thick packet to Harry along with his shrunken suitcase, “It is past two in the morning in New Zealand, you’ll have time to get settled and study it before your meeting with Minister Conroy. You have your emergency kit?”

What a stupid question, ever since an unfortunate incident Harry has never left the house without his emergency kit, but I don't comment, it wouldn't do for Harry to know that I still keep track of him, that I still know so much about his life and the things that happen to him. It is better for the two of us when he thinks that I just don't care.

Harry asks me if had time to pack, but he should remember that I am always prepared. But maybe he has forgotten or simply doesn't care any longer. I refuse to let it get to me and just reply, “I am set when does the Portkey leave?” Better to get this over with as quick as possible. At Hermione's answer Harry holds the Portkey out and I grip it. I just hope that this entire mess will be over and done with soon, the hotel rooms far away from each other and that I don´t lose my composure during this week.

We arrive somewhere that is decidedly not the International Portkey Harbour of New Zealand. My first thought is that the Portkey has been set wrongly but then I remember Hermione's face. Something is shifty about all of this and I want to know what on earth she has been thinking. She must be crazy that is. The thought of being stuck with Harry here on this beach, island? Wherever we are – it terrifies me. But of course I can´t let Harry know that and so I resort to anger once more. It always works with him.

“Granger has a lot of explaining to do.” I know I sound livid, I don´t even have to play it, I am so angry at her for doing this to me. But then again maybe Harry knows what is going on, after all this is his best friend that we are talking about and maybe he has set her up for this.

“Where are we?” Ok he does sound confused, but then he has learned a thing or two from me over the last years and I decide not to buy into his innocent act right now.

“How in Merlin am I supposed to know?” I throw the Portkey into the sand, I am so spitting mad for good measure I accuse him indirectly of playing a stupid game. “What is this, Potter? Are you in on it?”

Harry seems to not have the slightest clue. But I don´t believe him. He actually tries to tell me that we are in New Zealand, I am sorry but for what kind of fool does he take me? I set him straight quickly.

“Portkeying really does addle your brain. We aren’t even in the same hemisphere as New Zealand. It is two in the morning in New Zealand, so we obviously aren’t there. The sun is still rising in the sky, meaning we are west of England. The black sand indicates an island formed from a volcanic eruption, ergo, we are somewhere on the eastern edge Caribbean sea which has the only black sand beaches in the area.”

Harry looks at me like I just told him that we have been sent to the moon. Fuck it all we might as well be from the looks of it. There is only one way to find out and my heart almost jumps out of my ribcage as I cast. " _Homenum Revelio._ ” It covers the island and comes back without the tell-tale red, we are fucked. “An uninhabited island,” I state the bloody obvious, but since Harry still looks at me I add. “Could be any one of the hundreds in the region.”

He answers grudgingly “Wherever we are, it’s bloody hot.” And now he begins to undress himself. Could this get even worse? Do I really need to look at his fit body, without it being hidden by winter robes. On the other hand it is fucking hot and the cooling charm only goes that far. I would bet Harry has forgotten to cast one, he looks hot and sweat rolls down his face. I remember him looking that hot for entirely other reasons and it makes me irrationally angry once more. I lash out at him, because that is what I do.

“You didn’t answer my question. Did you put Granger up to this?”

“What are you on about? Obviously the Portkey—”

“The Portkey was not miskeyed. Your best friend for the last thirty years sent us to an island in the middle of the Caribbean, and I would like to have, if it is not too much FUCKING trouble, an explanation.” I feel my breaking point approaching quickly and if he doesn´t come clean soon I might hit him.

“No. I have no id...” he starts to say and stops himself - I can see when something dawns on him, he turns pale, ashen even.

“Potter!” I know I sound awful, he flinches again and I am sure that he knows something. That he still refuses to tell me makes me even madder. I am completely forgetting myself, drawing my wand on him. I have never done that before, but how could he do this to me? How can he force me to be with him for Merlin knows how long? He holds his hands out as if showing that he is without his wand not even able to defend himself. I hate myself for the words that spill out before I can check them. “You have exactly ten seconds to start talking or I am going to cast a full-body bind curse and drop you in the middle of that ocean, and we’ll find out if the Chosen One can float.” I see that he is still struggling with whatever is on his mind. I won't cast, but he doesn't know and so I push him a little more. “Fine. If you would prefer to die rather than tell me—” Fuck I don't want to cast but he is so stubborn!

But he stops me at the last possible second by saying: “I don’t know, but Hermione may— may —have acted on something I told her last month,” he looks torn and deep inside I feel sorry for him. I can't let him know obviously but I want to get to the bottom of this.

“Explain.” Short and to the point, I know that sometimes that is the only way to get Harry to talk.

“Explain.”

“We were drunk. Well, I was drunk; Hermione never drinks more than she can han—”

“Quit prevaricating, and get to the bloody point.”

“She asked me what had gone wrong between us, you and me, I mean, not her and me—” Harry closes his eyes as if to avoid looking at me, I can't believe what he is saying there.

“And, I may have told her, that I thought that if it had just been you and me alone on a tropical island in the Caribbean or somewhere, that we would still be together.”

“You told her what?” I can only stare at him. My heart is in my throat, after all that has gone wrong between us, after I walked out on him. “You planned this whole thing with her—” 

But he cuts me of desperately. “NO! We never talked about it again. I was rambling, stupid drunk. I didn’t think she was even listening to me!”

I can´t help but laugh at the sheer idiocy of these words. We are talking about Hermione Granger here. If there is one thing that I learned during the short time that we have been together, then that Hermione always listens, and that she will go to extremes if she thinks it will make Harry happy.

I am so far out of my depth here. I gesture helplessly at a palm tree twenty feet away. “I hate to point out the obvious, Potter, but I think it is pretty bloody clear that she was listening.”

Harry shakes his head again, as if all of this will go away then. “I can’t believe she did this,” he turns as if realizing for the first time that we are really stranded in the middle of the fucking ocean. He looks at me as helplessly as I feel and repeats once again “I can’t believe she did this.”

I can´t help but laugh. I probably sound deranged but I couldn´t care less. “New Zealand emergency. That should have been the first clue.”

Harry looks up at that, sprinting over. “New Zealand!” He begins to dig through the mess that he has made of his robes, digging for something. I can see that he picks up an envelope, the one that Hermione gave him just before we took the Portkey. He fumbles with the strings and I quickly lose my patience, so I take it from him and pull the sheet of paper out. Since I am involved in this mess I take the privilege to read the letter as well. I allow him to look at it as well though.

I read what she writes but I can't process it. Why would she think that simply putting Harry and I on an island - Harry's personal island to be precise - for a week will make everything alright once again? How does she interpret my gestures as not wanting to kill Harry out of pure annoyance but her words resonate deeply within me.

Draco, I won’t dare to presume how you feel about Harry. All I know is what I’ve observed: the way your eyes follow Harry around the conference room during a meeting, the way that you linger at the far side of the fountain in the mornings, drinking your coffee and waiting for him to walk past, and the expression on your face when Harry brought someone to the Ministry Ball.

“She is insane,” I declare, my disbelief must show clearly on my face and I look at Harry.

He replies rereading the letter. “This is so unlike Hermione.” His brow furrows and he looks at me again. “What photograph is she talking about?”

I didn't see anything, but I look into the envelope once more, and really there is a picture inside. Looking at it is like a punch to the gut. I remember that summer day at Hugo’s birthday party, a few months after our elopement. Hermione had convinced Harry to bring me but of course many people disagreed. It was only a taste of what was to come. It had started to thunder and rain and the other guests had run for the house. But Harry had grabbed me and just started to dance in the rain out in the garden, amidst the ruined decorations and balloons. The moment of that photograph still burns in my mind, the intimacy we still shared back then. Fuck Granger what good would it do to say that I still love this stupid, naïve, stubborn man. What right does Granger have to throw us together like this?

Harry's quiet voice tears me from my musings. “I didn’t have anything to do with this, Draco.”

He thinks I am angry at him. I am not but what good would it do to tell him that. All he sees are the signs that he has learned throughout the short time that we were married. I am clenching my jaw and try to control my breaths because I don't want to yell at him right now. Instead I try to stay rational but I am failing. Once more I am taking it out on him. “I figured that out; even you aren’t this naive. I’ve never read such ridiculous delusions,” I crumple the letter and throw it into the surf turning to glare at Harry. “What was she trying to prove? A week? How is she going to explain our absence?”

Harry shrugs, he has become helpless against my anger towards the end of our relationship, instead drawing into himself. He is doing it again right now, answering by trying to placate me.

“I don’t know. Let’s just try and find a way off the island and we can—”

I hate that he is doing this. I want him to rant just like I want to rant and I just let go. “And if we can’t? I have responsibilities. I can’t be spend a week here with you. What did you tell her that made her think that this would work? Why would you tell her—”

Harry interrupts me once more, he is getting angry finally. “Dammit, I was drunk. It was New Year’s eve. I didn’t mean anything by it, and sure as hell didn’t expect Hermione to throw us together like this. We just need to find a way to get back to England and we can go back to pretending that that never happened.” Harry points at the photograph that I still hold in my hand.

“Would that I could forget,” I hiss and throw the photograph on the ground. I need to find an outlet for my anger. And the way that we usually took our anger out on one another just won't do. I see sand covering the image but I want him to get out of my face right now. “Do me a favour, Potter. Next time you get maudlin and drunk, keep your bloody mouth shut.”

Harry retorts, “You can’t tell me what to do; you lost that right three years ago.”

He is right, but the statement still stings. I turn away slightly after remembering how our arguments used to end. I can´t fall into that trap once again even though I want nothing more than to kiss those angry lips, I want to clash with him and turn this vibrant energy into the heat that we used to share. I removed myself from his life but right now if we keep clashing like this I can´t guarantee for anything. So I avert my eyes, let him think that I am giving in.

He breathes in and states his thoughts. “This is ridiculous. We can’t stay here for a week. We should swim out past the Apparition barrier and—”

And this is so typically Harry, rushing in without thinking, that I blurt out what I think without censoring, “And drown? There are no visible land masses, how exactly will you do the three Ds? If you choose some random Caribbean island that is beyond your top distance, which, unless I am mistaken, which I am not, is 200 miles.” I want to slap some sense into the idiot, for not thinking this through “Since you don’t know where the fuck we are, you could be Apparating directly into the fucking ocean.”

Of course he can't let that stand and snaps at me, “At least you’d be finally rid of me.”

Fuck, that hurts, that he thinks I would want him dead, snapping back is more a reflex that honesty and I want to take the words back the moment they are out “I rid myself of you three years ago.” 

He flinches and his answer is subdued. “Right, of course, how silly of me to forget.”

I want to ease the blow, but the words sound lame even in my ears, “I didn’t mean it that way—”

“Yes, you did.” Harry turns away and looks at the cliff stating, “I’m going to go up there and look around. Maybe there are other islands behind this one.”

“I’ll come with you—” I offer only to have him throw it in my face.

“No.” He dismisses me and sends me towards the cabana. “Go look in the cabana. See if there are any clues that can tell us where this island is, or a way off it.” He walks away from me.

and I look after him. I refuse to obey his instructions instead staying right where I am. Harry throws off his shirt and toes off his shoes while I watch. Harry's back, defined by muscle raises memories of tracing every ridge and bump with my fingertips. I relinquished the right to touch that back three years ago, but my fingertips still tingle when I look at Harry. I call myself a sentimental fool putting my hands on my hips. Harry turns back and throws me a look. When he turns away I bend down and retrieve the picture that I threw into the sand. The moving photograph shows me with my head thrown back in laughter as Harry leads me through the steps, water dripping from our faces, and ends just as Harry pulls me close for a kiss, our eyes focused on each other and nothing else. Looking at us I wonder if Granger isn't right. Just he and I that might have worked, but the world has always had something to say on their hero's life. I had my reasons to walk away from him, and there is no use to dwell on it.

I cast a cooling charm and transform my clothes into something more suitable for the climate. It really is unbearably hot here. I continue to watch Harry climb the cliff, pondering the situation. But before I can come to any sort of conclusion or idea on how to handle all of this Harry loses his footing. My heart almost stops and time seems to slow down. If he crashes onto the beach he will die and I cast without thinking. “ Impedimenta” Please be enough to slow the fall. When Harry is suspended two feet above the sand anger takes over and I drop him face down into the black sand.

Knowing that he probably has overdone it I jog over to give the selfish prick a piece of my mind, he hasn´t been thinking at all that much is clear when I look at him.

"You are such a fucking selfish prick.” Yes I am furious, has Harry even thought for a second about the consequences of what he has risked? Harry coughs as he struggles to sit up and for a second I am afraid that he has punctured a lung when I let him drop. Since Harry breathes easier soon, I tear into him once more, it just won't do to show him the fear that he has caused me.

“Do you have any idea what would have happened to me if the Boy Wonder fell to his death with only his ex-husband around?”

Of course Harry can't just take this and snaps at me. “I do beg your pardon, I would have hated for my death to be an inconvenience for you.” When he wipes his hands over his face I realize that he is bleeding. Great just what we need, cuts that can get infected. I need to look at these.

“Look at you. You’re a bloody mess.” I sound exasperated and Harry is tired of it it seems.

“Well, according to you, I always have been.” He might say something more but I am already on my way to my pack picking the medical supplies up that I always carry with me. When I come back Harry lies on his back in the sand. He looks defeated and I swallow the words that lie on my tongue. I am sure he won't welcome any consolation from me I know Harry despises being here with me as much as I would have liked to avoid this. I pick up his hand, the cuts are deep and full of sand, fuck that is not going to be pleasant for him.

“What are you doing?” Of course Harry questions my intention once again and I am so sick and tired of it.

“Healing an idiotic prat who still thinks he is an invincible seventeen-year old instead of an extremely mortal almost forty-year old,” I let him know exactly what I think about grown men who act like they are invincible.

Harry shuts up at this and allows me to take his hand once more. I set to work with the potion, that I pull from my potions kit, the one he gave me for Christmas so many years ago and I wonder what he thinks, but I refrain from asking. Right now it is much more important to get the dirt out of the cuts.

The potion sets to work and Harry's hand trembles in mine, if the potions falls into the sand it will be lost and that would be bad. “Hold still,” I snap at him tightening my grip. “I barely have enough as it is.”

“What is that?” Harry asks and I hear the wonder in his voice. Sometimes he is almost childlike in his appreciation of magic

“Meracus,” I reply reaching for an empty vial, I can clean the solution once we get back and reuse it once again. The debris is all gone and the wounds bleed freely.

“Your creation?” he asks and I only nod. I apply essence of Dittany, if only Harry would hold still and not move so much. I think it still isn't clear to him how precious the potions are, now that we are stranded here for an entire week. I curse as several drops fall into the sand and are lost.

“Draco,” Harry sounds soft, almost apologetic, I meet his eyes, satisfied that the potion is doing its job on the other hand now. Looking in his eyes is still difficult for me and he seems so sincere in his thanks. “Thank you for, erm, not letting me fall and be willing to sort me out like this.”

“I could hardly save you from breaking your neck and then let your wounds fester and have you die of blood poisoning,” I reply, refusing to show just how much he scared me. “Roll over, I need to do your feet.”

But before I can actually do that I realizes that Harry is close to suffering a heat stroke. He asks me, “How can you not be sweating in this heat?”

“Heat? You had better not be telling me you that you didn’t cast a sun protection charm.”

“What? Oh. I forgot.”

Of course he did, once again he has forgotten to take care of himself with a spell. It used to drive me crazy. Now I simply cast the spell and follow it with a stinging hex to Harrys buttocks.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“It is absolutely astounding that you have lived this long, Potter.” I reach down and grasp Harry’s chin, checking him for sunburn or symptoms of a sunstroke. “It looks like you avoided sunburn or sunstroke. Do you have any idea how strong the sun is in this region?”

When I flip Harry over so that I can reach the sole of his foot, trying to brush the sand away, Harry groans involuntarily. I am reminded of the responsiveness that Harry always displayed when I treated him to a foot massage. I hesitate for a split second, but then there is nothing for it, the dirt needs to be removed.

“Bend your leg, I need the sole of your foot facing up.”

I want to remain stoic in order to keep the biggest possible distance between them, but I feel a twitch in my groin, any arousal I might have felt though ends when I finally take a look at the damage that Harry has done to his feet. I curse under my breath. That is going to hurt like hell.

“What’s wrong?” He has heard me, of course.

“You’ve got too much large debris in this cut for the Meracus to remove. I’ll need to take it out by hand and I don’t have tweezers.” And no real idea how to do it, if I am honest. But he eases that worry unknowingly.

“I have a first aid kit in my emergency kit.” At these words I get up and head towards the pack, fuck that is so typical of him! I could have taken care of the injuries much better with a first aid kit, but Harry is always so thoughtless. I am angry once more and try to calm down. I rummage through his stuff. When my finger brush against the Emergency Portkey, I am stunned. Granger must have packed it for Harry, but I believe him when he says that he doesn’t know anything about this entire harebrained scheme that Granger has concocted. If things get too bad and we really need to leave or be in danger of killing one another I will let him know that he has this. Until then we will remain here. A really selfish part of me, selfish and masochistic to be honest wants to keep him here, suffering with me for a while. I should probably tell him about it, but I am in no condition to be fair. Having him to myself if only involuntarily on his part, is my indulgence. My thought process has taken a little while. When I head back he sits already up.

“You might have mentioned that you had a bloody first aid kit.” I am annoyed and sit down next to Harry, giving him a none too gentle shove to make him lay back on ground.

Harry obeys turning over on his stomach. “Didn’t think of it.” He is such an epitome of an idiotic Gryffindor and then he drops the bomb again. “You should have become a Healer.” As if we didn't have that argument again and again, during our friendship years ago

“Don’t even start on that again,” I warn him off, but of course he can’t give it a rest.

“You should have pushed it.” Harry looks at me over his shoulder. “They were wrong to not let you in the training program.”

It is such an old argument, yes I did have the highest scores on the entrance exams every single times, but they turned me down flat. It rankled but the old me, the one that would have insisted on getting his way had died within the war. And I try to tell him that again.

“They were right to turn me down. Better the spot go to a person that had a chance of being able to work as a Healer than to me.”

Of course he doesn't understand my thinking and replies.

“That’s bull—”

I cut him off. “Potter, no sane witch or wizard in Britain would let a Death Eater heal them.”

“I would have. Actually, I am letting you heal me,” He refutes my claim with a grin as he looks back at me again.

Yeah he is the exception to the rule as always. “Well, you are not sane.” I grip his foot tightly, “And it gives me great pleasure to say this is going to hurt,” I say for good measure as I bend my head and start digging the dirt out of the wound.

Harry gives a yelp of protest, “Ouch! How about a numbing potion?”  


But I can't help him with that. I checked his kit and I tell him “So sorry, the pain potion in your kit is old and I seem to be all out. Stop moving about.” I really am out and mad at myself, I always have a numbing potion in my kit and now when it actually matters I am not prepared.

“I just bet you are out,” Harry says, clearly not believing me. I don't blame him, instead I concentrate on getting the dirt out of his feet as quickly as possible, but it takes a good fifteen minutes until I have everything fixed so far.

When he gets up I look at him, fuck he is still gorgeous. I follow his hands as they brush off sand, he has strong hands, good hands. When he catches my look he sucks his stomach in. As if he needs that. We aren't twenty any longer but he looks good in shape, not overly muscular but still full of wiry strength.

“We still need to get up there, if we want to take a good look around.” Harry says, shading his eyes against the sun looking up towards the cliff. If he thinks that I will let him climb the cliff again, until we have determined that there really is no other way to get up, he has another thing coming. My shoulder brushes against his, I need to feel connected to him for a bit, to the only human being that is on this godforsaken island with me. I cast my eyes around and I focus on the jungle that comes up to the base of it. Just beyond the beach.

“Perhaps, instead of charging at it like a Gryffindor, we should look around to see if there is an easier way up.” I start walking towards the trees. I need to push through the sparse underbrush, and I I trust in his stubborn streak to prove me wrong, that will make him follow me. Sure enough I hear him coming after me shortly

“We haven’t been in school for twenty years, do you think maybe you could stop blaming everything I do on my house?” Harry grumbles as he follows me.

“I will, just as soon as you stop...” The path that opens up in front of me makes me stop abruptly and Harry runs into me.

“What—oh.” he stops dismayed.

“Recently cleared,” I point to the freshly trampled plants and cut branches.

Harry nods. “I imagine Kreacher did it, or had someone do it for him. Where do you think it goes?”

“That way likely leads to the cabana.” I indicate to the right. “Maybe the other way leads to the other side of the island.” We both turn to the left. I guess if we are going to try and escape we need to see what else is on the island. We walk only a short distance when we stand in front of a stone staircase cut into the side of the slope. I look to the side and see that Harry is blushing. I refrain from getting another dig in and just raise an eyebrow, allowing him to head up in front of me.

The view is amazing, but it also reveals what I was afraid of. No other islands are in the vicinity. Of course not if that here is really a Black island, I would have been surprised that anybody would be close enough to interfere with the former purpose of the pureblood islands.

“Bloody hell,” I hear Harry swearing and turn to look at him. He has his wand pulled and casts spell after spell forcing his magic out. It is impressive to see him like this and he will be exhausted once he is done with this display. I wonder if he is really worried that there are dark curses on this island, but then again thinking about his godfathers family, his fear is not unfounded. He sinks down exhausted and I allow him to catch his breath for a second.

“Cup your hands.” And for once he doesn't argue with me, a sure indication of his tiredness.

“ Aguamenti, ” I fill his hands with water, he drinks deeply and silently asks for a refill twice before he indicates that he has enough.

“Better?” I ask him. His display of magic must have drained him so much.

“Yeah, are you thirsty?” Harry asks me, holding up his wand, as if he wants to give me water too, and while I find it oddly comforting to know that he is concerned for me as well I decline.

“After that display,” I indicate the magic still flickering over the island, “I doubt you have enough magical energy left for a simple Accio .” And holy fuck if that doesn't turn me on something fierce.

“I forgot to check for Dark Magic. Bloody stupid, here I am lead curse breaker and it didn’t occur to me to check immediately,” Harry blames himself, but to be honest under these circumstances, I can't find it in me to be hard on him. Being here with him alone, it brings feelings back that I had hoped to have buried deeply.

Instead I try to console him. “Considering how disoriented we both were to end up here, I think we can give you a break on that one.”

His answer sounds bewildered “It is odd, really, there isn’t any remnants of Dark Magic. Just some very old magic and that of Kreacher’s. All the other Black properties were steeped in it.”

I can help him with that, “I had a good look at the vegetation as we were walking through the jungle. I believe that this island was one that they would have used for growing Muggle plants. The native plants from this region are critical for potion making.” Settling down next to him feels natural, just for a moment I can forget my attempt to maintain a distance between us. “In centuries gone by, the Pureblood families who could afford it had their own island to grow ingredients. The Malfoy family had one but sold it over a century ago, as vendors of potion ingredients became more readily available. The island would have been kept relatively free of magic in order to ensure the purity of the plants.”

As always when I talk about old magical traditions he listens intently and ask me “Did your mother ever mention her family having an island?”

Mother never told me about it, but it was clear when I saw the foliage. “No, it could be that this one was abandoned decades ago. Forgotten until Sirius Black needed it.”

Harry shudders a little. “Funny to think of Sirius being here. It must have felt like heaven after being in Azkaban.”

“Heaven, but lonely,” I wonder how it would have felt. “Nothing but the wind for company.”

“Better the wind than Dementors.” Harry stands up, and almost falls down again. This would be so typical for him, to overdo it without regard to his own health. My alarm must show clearly as he quickly states, “I’m hungry.”

“You should be, it must be past suppertime in England,” I say after checking the sun's position.. It is a wonder that he hasn't collapsed already. The man is a menace to himself. So I pull out the two chocolate bars, that I nicked from his emergency kit I hand one to him and keep one to myself.

“Thanks.” He accepts the treat gratefully.

“Don’t thank me, they’re from your emergency kit.”

“Well, thanks for not eating them both.” Harry tears into the chocolate like a starving man, which he probably is. But his moan when he bites into the bar is very nearly my undoing. I look at him devouring his chocolate wanting nothing more to be that chocolate bar right at that very moment. I remember when he used to feast on me like that and he catches me looking at him.

“What?” he asks me and I resort to the age old lie.

“You have some chocolate, there.” My voice sounds strange in my own ears and I point towards the corner of his mouth.

“Mmm, thanks.” he chases the last of the treat with his tongue and I need to get away from him, lest I do something incredibly stupid, kiss him for example.

“This is untenable,” I state clearly to myself. I walked away and it would do well if I remembered that I had my reasons.

Harry gets up and joins me as I look down onto the island “I know, I don’t think that we are going to be able to get off the island.”

“You don’t say.” I have come to that realization as soon as I saw the state of the island. Granger has really pulled a number on both of us.

“I didn’t have anything to do with this, Draco,” he sound wary, as if I´ll attack him immediately

“Yes. I figured that out as I watched you attempting to kill yourself to get away from me.” I reply, but there is no real fight left in me. I am tired and wonder what we will find in the cabana. That and I am just glad that he didn´t succeed in doing real damage. I don't think I could have forgiven me if something would have happened to him.

“I wasn’t—” he begins to say, but he closes his mouth, at least he is not trying to insult both of us by saying that he wasn't trying to get away from me.

“Let’s go down to the building, maybe there will be more answers there. Or at least food. Unless Granger planned to have us turn to cannibalism to settle our differences.” I turn towards the stairs heading downwards, hoping to find food and a bed in the cabana.

I pick leaves of the foliage, smelling them and putting them in my pocket. Granger is so frighteningly accurate in her observations. But what does she think will happen if we talk? Should we pretend that the outside world doesn't exist? It worked so well the last time, didn't it? We were ok as long as they all kept their noses out of it, but when word got out that we had married, hell broke loose, this will never change. In the end I had no choice but to leave the man that I loved, who am I kidding I still love him, but if I give in, it will only end with both of us being hurt. And I don´t know if I have the strength to put myself together once more.

With these bleak thoughts I arrive at the structure that houses the cabana. Impressive I have to admit it. Harry is behind me, and so I have a short moment to admire the house which rests on massive wooden beams. It feels old, but no unfriendly magic lingers.

“Maybe I should check again for any resident magic.” Harry frets but I trust my instincts. If Granger planned for us to be here she made sure that it is safe, a safe prison maybe but nothing here can harm us. Well apart from ourselves.

“It’s fine, Potter. Come on, I have to admit I’m curious as to where we will be spending this week.” I walk up without waiting for him.

I look around and realize that the cabana consists of only one large room. The roof holds two ceiling fans turning lazily around, powered by nothing but the breeze. The cabana been built masterfully to capture the breeze and the stilts provide protection from incoming floods during storms. The wood covering the floor is old, I would guess only materials that could be found on this island have gone into the construction. The room is completely open, only some curtains keep the light out, but they are pushed onto the side.

“Nice Place!” I have to admit that this is cosy, Harry stands behind me perusing the house, but then something captures my attention and I am caught between anger and amusement.

It stands there inconspicuously pushed against the far wall, enormous with a canopy of mosquito netting. A bed, to be clear the only bed in the cabana. I hear Harry swallow dryly and tear my eyes away from the offending piece of furniture.

“There’s only one bed.” Harry states the obvious.

“Two points to Gryffindor.” I know I am being unfair, but fuck I am exhausted and can't pretend to be indifferent right now. This is a low blow. “I am going to kill Granger.”

“Not if I get to her first,” Harry laughs but it is a bitter one and I flinch a little, he shakes his head and repeats “This is not like her.”

I blame my tiredness for the unfriendly reply that I give. “You keep saying that but unless she was under Imperius then clearly there is a side to her that you don’t know about. A twisted, sadistic side.”

“Look. I’ll just transfigure it into two beds and we’ll put up a wall or something.” Harry actually goes to start the transfiguration. But his wand arm trembles and I put my hand on his. I don't want him to collapse afterwards or botch the attempt entirely due to magical exhaustion.

“If you don’t mind. I’ll do the transfiguring.” Of course he can't accept the offer and disagrees with me.

“I can do—”

I am really irritated with him them, why can't he just let me do it, and I snap at him. “Look at your shorts compared to mine. I would rather not sleep in a bed that is lopsided and lumpy.”

“Fine.” Harry gives in but not with good grace.

I pick up my wand casting the spell, but nothing happens. I must be more tired than I realized for my magic to fail. I cast again with the same results. It is an unhappy laugh that reaches my ears and I look at Harry who shakes his head.

“She used her anti-Transfiguration charm.”

“There is no such thing.” At least I never heard of it before and I cast again with the same results.

Harry talks over my casting, undeterred. “Hermione invented it a few years ago. Rose’s accidental magic was pretty powerful when she was little, she was able to animate her stuffed animals. Hermione got fed up with the herd of miniature unicorns living under Rose’s bed.”

At that moment I truly hate Hermione Granger, but since she is not here I have to unleash my anger on Harry. “Wonderful, I’m sure the magical world will rejoice at being saved from tiny horned animals, but it still leaves us with one bloody bed.”

Harry turns looking at the chairs by the reading area. “Maybe one of us can sleep in those.”

I know for sure that I am not going to sleep in that contraption, he got us into this mess he can very well live with the consequences. “Good idea, that looks terribly uncomfortable, I hope you like it.”

“Why me? We should toss for who gets the bed.” Of course Harry is not happy with the idea but I am done with being nice right now. I am tired and hungry and I let him know exactly why he will sleep in the lounge chair or wherever he chooses to sleep.

“You and your drunken ramblings are what got us here. You can sleep in the bloody trees for all I care, I’m sleeping in the bed.” I am moving into the kitchen area opening all of the cabinet doors with a flick of my wand. And even though I am still very mad at Hermione I can't keep the surprised laugh in. Harry comes at the sound checking what made me laugh, as if he deems it safe now.

She stacked enough food for a week, organized it neatly in dinners, lunchfoods, breakfasts, even perishables.

“I guess we don’t have to worry about starving,” Harry sounds relieved. As if she ever would risk him suffering hunger. I remember how he was with food and that this is the one thing I wouldn't forgive her and I think she knows that.

I pick up one of the bottles of wine and realize that it is really not up to par. Then again what did I expect from Granger. I doubt she would recognize a good wine even if it hit her into the face. “I hope the food she supplied is of better quality than the wine.” At least I am always prepared.

“At least it is alcohol, we are going to need all of that to make it through this week,” Harry replies, but I am already on the porch, summoning my luggage and his as well. Harry laughs a delighted sound that I haven't heard in such a long time. The robes and other items end up on the floor in front of us.

“Show off,” he says but it is with a smile. He searches for something and pulls a little case from his pocket. “I hope Hermione packed what I needed, I want to get cleaned up after that climb. It looked like there was a wash up spot behind the cabana.”

Yes he does look a fright, covered with dirt from his fall earlier but right now I am pulling the precious cube from my own robe pocket, enlarging it quickly. I open the crate and pull a bottle of white wine out. At least we have something decent to drink.

“You brought wine to take on a Ministry case,” Harry sounds disbelieving.

“I brought a case of wine intended for a gift for the New Zealand Potions Master,” I reply evenly, opening the bottle is easy and I really need a glass right now, I summon two glasses for both of us. “It never hurts to smooth diplomatic doors open with wine.”

“Especially when you are being brought in to check another person’s work,” Harry replies, laughter evident in his eyes.

“Precisely. In any case it will make the week more bearable if we do not have to drink that plonk that Granger thought passed as wine and thankfully it is already chilled.” I pour the wine and hold it out to Harry. He reaches for it, but then he freezes at the same time that I curse myself. How could I have forgotten. Of course he can't just drink from a glass that I offer him. He can´t trust me and I have only myself to blame. I am paying for my past mistakes. I am glad that my hand is not shaking and that my voice is firm. “Test it.” Harry just looks at me at the glass in my hand. Cold and crisp, with condensation on the glass, and I hate myself for the fact that he distrusts me. He gears himself up to take it from me, but I need him to know that I won't be angry if he does test it.

“Test it.” I repeat it, and there is not a trace of humour in my voice .

“It’s fine, Draco,” he replies pulling the glass from my hand. I look at him closely when he raises the glass to his mouth taking a sip. . He doesn't speak and I know that we need to talk about the things that happened between us but before I can gather my courage to address the topic, looking intently into my own glass breathing in and trying to speak Harry sets the glass gently onto the railing. “I’m going to go get cleaned up.”

“Harry.” I want him to stay, I want so much, but it is clear that right now he is not willing to face the issues that we had.

“We can eat when I get back.” He goes back picks up his bag and all but runs outside and I am left standing there with my glass and my regrets. I cast a cooling and protection charm on Harry's glass and leave the cabana. Looking out on the waves. Fuck I was such an idiot back then, but that he really didn't understands what drove me to desperate measure and still refuses to talk about it, that hurts more than I am willing to admit.

I know why he doesn't trust me any longer and I can say that I deserve it. He approached me about people putting potions into his drinks and how to figure that out, so I knew how much he hated people trying to manipulate him. And still there I was years later, reduced to the same desperate measures. All I wanted from him was the truth and he refused me that. Refused to let me in and to trust me. Before he threw the wine into my face I only got out of him that he was in the Daily Prophets Office.

When he came back something had been broken between us. He demanded an apology, and I couldn't give it. I wanted his honesty and he refused to give it, demanding that I should trust him. How could I when he didn´t trust me? Where was his sense of fairness then? I guess I just wasn't worth it and I should remember that in the end he didn't fight me when I left.

Well he will know that the wine is clean at least, not that it matters. I do well to remember that we didn´t work out. We never will either.

When I think about this entire mess I really wonder why Granger thought that this was a good idea. Leaving us here to fend for ourselves with only a house-elf as a help in her plan. Wait a second! It is far fetched but maybe I found a flaw in her crazy plan. I call for Kreacher. But he doesn´t respond. It would have been too easy I think. If not even my Black blood is enough to call him to us, we are damned to live through this week of hell. I am hungry by now and decide to head back, because staying outside feels like I am avoiding the upcoming confrontation.

Harry has come back before me, I realize when I see him heading out to the veranda with the plates floating gently in front of him. He looks at home there and I watch him placing plates and cutlery on the table. I feel uncomfortable, not sure if I am welcome or if I should just head inside. He must sense my discomfort and gives me time. He has refilled the glasses and I feel relief, not entirely clear, if he has forgiven me or if he simply decided that the topic is not worth it.

“Let’s eat while it is still hot, I’m starving.” Harry doesn't turn around and I decide to remain silent as well. Sitting down I look at my plate, and a lump grows in my throat because unthinkingly he has placed all of the mushrooms on my plate and all of the tomatoes on his. He even remembered my preference for a lot of sauce on my pasta

“Is something wrong?” he says, before he realizes what he has done.

“Fuck.” Harry seems embarrassed by this and swallows a large gulp of wine, flushing heavily once again.

“It’s nothing. I’m surprised you remembered,” I try to diffuse the tension and start eating. If Harry knew how much I still remember about him, he would be surprised, but I will not let him in on this little fact.

“Right.” Harry begins to eat as well, drinking his wine. I take it as a small victory that he allows me to refill his glass without protest and not casting another test charm on it.

I get lost in my own thoughts. Will it be like this, for the next few days? A polite ceasefire and tiptoeing around one another?

Harry starts to talk again suddenly “I wish Hermione had deemed to provide a house—” he interrupts himself thinking for a second before he yells, “KREACHER”

Fuck he scared me for a second, I am on my feet before I process what he is trying to do, “What’s wrong—”

Harry yells now “KREACHER, I ORDER YOU TO COME HERE!”

“It won’t work, Harry—” I fall silent as a scroll of parchment appears in the air in front of Harry.

“What the...” Harry grabs the scroll. I know what is written on it. Probably a regretful note but the notice that he can't follow Harry's call.

“What does he mean he can’t? He’s my house-elf!” Harry is indignant and even though it is wrong I can't help but laugh.

“You did give him his freedom.”

“I know, I had to or Hermione would have killed me, but he’s never not responded before.” Harry is livid and crumples the paper. He vanishes the remaining food and sends the plates flying back into the kitchen. He must be really angry because he doesn't even flinch when the plates break.

“I could have told you it wouldn’t work.” I lean against the rail.

“Why’s that?” at least he has calmed down a little

"Because it didn’t work when I tried to summon him out on the beach. I’d hoped that the Black family connection would be a strong enough to bring him to me,” and fuck if I know how to conceal how much it hurts that Harry is so intent on getting of this island as well. I laugh bitterly, “Ironic, that we are in paradise and both of us want to escape. I was thinking that we could prepare a bonfire on the shore to use a as a signal in case we see a ship.”

“I doubt it would work,” Harry shakes his head. “I’ve no doubt that the island has protective wards that prevent it from being seen.”

“Can you think of any other way off the island?” I think we have exhausted all of our options, but maybe Harry still has an ace up his sleeve.

“No.” he looks apologetic, “Unless you know how to re-charm the Portkey.”

“Beyond my area of specialty. Didn’t know if you—” Yeah that thought is too ridiculous. If Harry had any chance to get of this island he would have used it so already. So I stop.

“If I what?” He enquires but I wave him off.

“Nothing, just thought you might have another idea on how to get off.”

“Afraid not, unless someone at work or Ron finds out what Hermione has done,” Harry shakes his head, sounding resigned once more “I’m afraid we are stuck here.”

“I should have brought more wine.” I mean it only half as a joke but Harry doesn't respond well.

“I’m going to go for a walk,” he says it brusquely and stands up ready to leave.

“I think I will put my things away, seeing as there is no getting off the alternative there is no point in letting them get wrinkled in the suitcase.” I refuse to let him see how much his desperation to get away from me all the time stings. I don't hear him leave, but I busy myself with putting all of my clothes away. I refrain from putting Harry's things away. He would think I am violating his privacy, and I will try to avoid confrontation. I straighten the cabana and look out onto the waves. When I see Harry amble back along the beach I retreat so that he doesn't see me. But I need not have feared, Harry strips off shorts and shirt and wades into the water before diving into the water. He looks magnificent and I find myself wondering where we went wrong. Harry swims with strong strokes towards the reef turns and follows the shoreline. I decide to indulge myself a little. He doesn't need to know after all.

I pick up one of the chairs that are facing the jungle, carry it over into the middle of the veranda to have a good view and pick a book as a cover. Behind it I continue to watch him, thinking about my life without Harry. Nobody has published any more damning articles so the Prophet was satisfied when news of our split became public, but the price that I paid has been steep. I am lonely with only the work as a distraction, but after what happened with Harry I haven't dared to date again. Once our marriage became public the Prophet began running daily editorials on the front page about how all Death Eaters should be in Azkaban. Of course I was guilty of all sorts of heinous activities and our world closed in around us. The hexes and accusations didn't stop and the rift between us grew more and more. I had hoped that holding still and weathering the storm would help, but Harry grew restless and left me alone more and more to be Merlin knows where. He shut me out until I cracked. My method of dosing him with Veritaserum was wrong, and I realized that night that things between us had to end. We tried to make it work but the articles didn't stop until I walked out on him. I had hoped that he was on his way to being happy, but if Granger is right, then Harry hasn't been happy since we split. Well we are two in that.

Harry comes back ashore after a long time, I hope that he at least remembered the sun protection charm now. He walks back to his clothes naked as the day that he was born, and I remember hours in bed with him. On the sexual level we always clicked, and I find myself looking away when I realize that he heads back towards the cabana. He is dressed again and I mourn the loss of his golden skin.

He steps up on the veranda and stops. He looks around as if puzzled by something, before he draws a sharp breath. I feel the heat creep up at the look on his face. It turns him on that I watched him swimming in the nude, but I hear the words tumbling out of my mouth before he can call me out.

“If you are done gawking, you’ll want to shower, rinse off the salt.” I state without looking up, I don't want him to see how hot my ears have grown. For a second I think that he will call me out on my bluff but then he goes inside and rinses off. He doesn't come back out again and after a while I find myself nodding off as well.

Going inside I half think that he might have gone to bed, just to spite me but he has fallen asleep in the lounge chair. It isn't comfortable looking, but I won't wake him up. He can thank Granger for his backpain. I undress and go to sleep, as I always do. I tried to sleep in clothes before, but I simply can't. It feels too restricting, and Harry has seen it all anyway. I drift off into a fitful sleep, half hoping that Harry will get into bed with me just because he can.

I wake up in the middle of the night, because I heard a squeak. Before I am fully awake my eyes register Harry standing over me. But before I can reach out and pull him towards me, he turns and flees.

The expression in his face hurts, a mixture of arousal and loathing. He naked feet pound the sand and he runs up to the cliff. I walk up slowly, half scared of what I will find. And then I see him and it is breaking my heart. He is crying, I don't walk up to him, not sure on how to approach him wanting to console but at the same time I know that he doesn't want me here.

“Go away,” he says wiping at his eyes, furious that I see him like this, that I see he weakness and his pain.

“No.” I am standing ten feet away, not sure how he will react if I do get closer. But what he does say is worse than a physical blow that he could throw my way.

“Draco, if you ever cared for me even a little, you will just go away.” Harry’s voice cracks and he refuses to look at me.

I want to yell at him for being so stubborn, for shutting me out once again, when he does care for me. But then again he didn't let me in when we were married, so why would he now, when he still wants to fuck me but that is all that is left, It is that realisation that makes me leave. He might want my body, but he never wanted all of me. And that hurts, I retreat.

He doesn't come back until I fall asleep in the early morning hours.

  


**Day Two**

I wake up disoriented, a fitful few hours haven't done anything to refresh me. I check the cabana quickly.

Harry hasn't come back.

I thought it hurt thinking that he was cheating on me, I thought it hurt when he refused to tell me where he went at night. And fuck it hurt to walk away from him, even though I knew it was for the best. But nothing has prepared me for the pain that I feel now. He must be so disgusted, with me, my shameless behaviour, how could I even believe that he would be ok with seeing me naked. I remind him of primal lust, and he was so clearly disgusted with wanting me.

I am such a fucking fool. Malfoys don't cry but I feel close to losing it. Only the thought that Harry will be even more disgusted with me if he finds me falling apart, makes me hold on. I try to put myself together. The sun has risen already and maybe Harry will come back, once it reaches the cliff. That is if he stayed up there. A quick spell shows me that he is still there, not moving.

I eat half the contents of a breakfast box, it doesn't taste of much but I swallow mechanically. I linger for a while longer, listening for movements, but it becomes obvious that he won't come to me. Maybe it is better if he can stew a little while longer. He needs to think and I do too. I pick up my wand a book and float a chair down to the beach. Settling down in the shade I watch out over the waves cresting on the reef.

For the first time in three years I truly think about what has gone wrong. We were happy, for a short while, but for the first time in forever I felt at home with someone. Of course the mistakes of my past came back to haunt us. Part of me understands that people felt outrage at the initial thought of an Ex-Death Eater with their hero, but I had hoped that after a while the public would calm down. I tried to keep my head low. Tried to prove that I had changed, but it didn't help. When I think about it even Harry's friends had been so unhappy with his choice in a partner. Only Hermione had believed in me, had accepted my apology and tried to include me.

My laughter sounds insane even in my own ears.

Hermione Granger, the woman who punched me in third year, had always put Harry's happiness above the prejudices that others heaped upon me. I wonder if she had seen right through me, I miss Harry, have missed him for every single day in the last three years, only to know now that he can't even stand to sleep under the same roof as I do.

“Thank you for making that clear!” I yell at the waves, a dry sob tears from my mouth. I punch the tree behind me, at least then I have a reason for the pain that resonates within me.

The sun shows me that lunchtime is approaching. Walking back I wonder if he has eaten the food that I left out for him. A quick perusal of the cabana shows me that he was here, his wand is gone and he took an entire box of pastries with him. Well what did I expect. Harry has made clear that he would rather be anywhere but here.

I pick at my half of the food. It doesn't taste like anything but I eat. I leave the cabana again, trying to read. But my mind is jumbled. I drop the book back at the cabana. Looking at the shelves above the kitchen my eyes catch on a bottle of rum. I usually don't drink, but who cares. Maybe a drink or two can ease the tension, so that I can sleep better tonight. Merlin knows that I will need all the help that I can get, with Harry being so disgusted by my presence.

So I grab the bottle and a glass, walking back to my chair and drink slowly. The stuff is strong, but who cares. It is not as if Harry will give a fuck, he has made very clear that he will deal with the situation by staying as far away from me as possible.

I have no idea how long I sit here and drink. But the blessed forgetting doesn't happen. Instead I just feel depressed. It grows hot and I take of my shirt. The breeze cools my skin pleasantly, and for once I feel at ease. At some point my bottle is empty and I need to go back. I must have had a little too much because getting back into my shirt is difficult. But who cares. The way back seems longer, I stumble a couple times and feel a little of center, getting back to bed is probably a good idea,

I hear a sound from within the cabana, has Harry come back? But then I see him with the boxes that I left out for him, he is looking for something to read I think. I blame the alcohol for my reaction, but I am so fed up with his behaviour. I get that he doesn't want to be near me, but fuck if I'll keep quiet about it, I have had it with him and his avoidance. He a has avoided me until I understood that I had to leave, but I am done with it. He has heard me and freezes when I confront him.

“Not done sulking yet, then? Going to run away again?”

He turns towards me, looking me up and down he appears incredulous, as if he has never seen me drunk before.

“What happened to you?”

Is he for real? What hasn't happened to me? I mean how can he even ask me that? A giggle escapes me that probably sounds deranged, fuck I had too much to drink. Well I can just be honest, it is not as if he will talk to me once this all is over.

“What happened...oh let’s see I was kidnapped and now I’m stuck here with you. And that is as fun as swimming with the giant squid without your swimming trunks on.” Harry flinches at that and I wonder if there is some more alcohol in the cabana. I am dizzy but not buzzed enough to sleep, he still stares at me as if he didn't understand me so I clarify “Right. So. I decided to have some rum.”

“Rum? You don’t drink rum.” Of course he needs to contradict me.

I do drink rum right now, don't I? “Apparently, you’re wrong.” I hold up the bottle, realizing with a start that it is completely empty. “Nope, you’re right. All empty.” I state absentmindedly. Where was the alcohol again? Fuck he is making me nervous, I stumble into the cabana, feeling exposed under his gaze. “What did I come for?”

I am sure he has rearranged the furniture just to spite me. I bump into a couple things. I look into the cupboards, wishing that he would just up and leave like he so clearly wants to. I am close to losing it and the rum is catching up with me quickly. Why did he have to be here, couldn't he come back once I am passed out on the bed, and he safe from my company. I curse.

“Damn it, Draco. What the hell were you thinking?” Harry grabs my face, but he should just leave me alone, after all that is what he wants right? “We need to get some water in you. Do you know how strong that stuff is?”

No idea what he is talking about. I try to get away from him looking into another cupboard “I thought it best to save time...” I hear water rushing, and then he pushes me towards the bed, only giving in once I sit. What will it take for him to leave me alone? I drink from the glass that he pushes at me and allow him to put me on the bed. As soon as he is gone I will... and then there is only darkness. Waking up is horrible. I am trapped underneath the sheets, unable to free myself. I am fighting the urge to throw up, I need to get out of this bed, need to. And then there he is and pulls the sheets of my body.

“No, you don’t, not in the bed.” He drags me from the bed and pushes me towards the window. 

I am so miserable that I can't even protest. My stomach rebels violently and I throw up. I am not entirely sure if I imagine it or if it is real but I feel a soothing touch on my back. I am completely screwed. He settles me gently down on the floor. My legs refuse to work properly I tremble all over and I know then and there that drinking definitely has not been the answer to my problem.

“I’m going to get you some water, I’ll be right back,” Harry tells me softly and I can only nod. He is back pretty quickly and I sip the cold water. Looking up I realize that the sun is only just setting. I am so tired, I feel like the Knight Bus has run me over. There is no way that I can make it to the bed.

Harry knows that as well. He asks me “Back to bed?” and I can only nod.

I hate myself for longing for his touch. He helps me to my feet, and I revel in his arm around my waist, knowing that he would never voluntarily touch me. It is slow going, but at the same time it is too fast for me. I sit on the bed, already missing his touch. I know that I need to get out of my clothes, otherwise I won't be able to sleep but my fingers don't cooperate well. Getting out of the shirt is hard, but sleeping in it, will be worse, I already feel gross just from the few hours in it. My eyes droop and swear to myself to never drink again, I fumble with my waistband. What I sight I must make...

Harry undresses me gently, and I need him with me so badly that I plead, even on the risk of being rejected, “Stay.”

“I can’t—” He replies, afraid that I´ll do what? Molest him?

I repeat “Stay.” pulling on his hand, “I’m in no shape to try anything. Just stay.” I make room for him, just like I always used to and he gives in. Just for one night I can feel him against me once more. And I curl against Harry, putting my arm over his waist, to keep him close. I fall asleep to soft strokes and wish that I could stay with him here, just the two of us.

Waking up is hell. There is unbelievable pain in my head, my tongue feels like it has been swollen to twice its normal size and the slightest movement causes immense nausea.

“Harry.” I moan and he snaps awake probably afraid that I´ll be sick again. 

“Hold on, just sit up.” he says.

I wish he would be still so the bed doesn't move as much. I only get out “Potion.” I am fighting to keep control over my body and force the words out. “Box. Second shelf. Yellow cap, blue flask.”

Harry moves to the box rummaging through it, before he brings me the flask back. I drink what he gives me. It is when I collapse against the pillow and feel the potion take effect, that I realize I still trust him blindly. He could have knocked me out easily with the things in my kit.

It is still dark. But I hear him search something in the kitchen. I realize that he probably hasn't eaten much, apart from the breakfast that he has taken yesterday. I struggle to sit up, grateful that the potion is taking effect. He comes back to me with water and sandwiches

I take the bread off the sandwich and pick at a slice of ham. Well at least that is staying down.

Harry sits on the bed next to me, and eats. I look at him, wondering if we'll ever be able to simply exist as friend and how to get the words out that I owe him when he realizes that I am watching him. He starts to get up, but I put a hand on his arm, stopping him.

“Don’t. I need to apologize.” I need to get this out but he waves it off.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. Well, other than drink a bottle of rum.” The bastard laughs at my face, but I guess I deserve that.

I feel all of the colour leave my face, “Don’t even say that, I don’t think I’ll be able to even smell rum punch again without gagging.”

He stands up at that, and I don´t try to stop him this time. I understand that our moment is over and that he wants to get away from me. Harry looks at me for a moment before he says. 

“Eat what you can, and go back to sleep. The potion helps, but sleep is better.”

Fuck it is still dark. I didn't even notice. I don't want him to leave, if he can't stand the thought of being in bed with me I need to get out “Don’t leave. I mean, don’t leave the cabana, I’ll sleep on the chair, you can sleep here.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Harry leaves and puts the plates into the kitchen. It shouldn't feel like a kick but it does and I am not fast enough and too tired of playing games and he sees something on my face. When he comes back he asks “What’s wrong?”

Maybe it is still the alcohol speaking, but I need him close, if he can't sleep in the cabana with me then I'll sleep on the veranda.

“I don’t want you to sleep outside again. If you can’t sleep with me here, I’ll sleep outside.”

Harry wants to object but then seems to reconsider when he looks at me, he nods saying. “I’ll sleep in the chair. Just go to sleep.” but I can't believe it until I see him settled into the chair. He is here with me and I can sleep once more.

  


**Day Three**

When I wake up he is gone once more. I feel exhausted, a deep sadness settled within my soul. It lasts until I look outside and see him sitting on the beach, he hasn't moved far from the cabana as if he knew that I would look for him. For the first time since this entire mess has started I allow myself hope. I take a quick shower and make coffee. Harry has never been able to deal with time shifts well. He must be tired, especially since watching over me.

We really need to talk. I just hope that we can do that without one of us flipping out. But I admit, the words that he said when we arrived here have touched me deeply. Maybe letting him go wasn't the right thing. I always thought that he was over me. I know he still desires my body, but maybe there is something more there.

I grab a mug of coffee and step outside. He stares at the ocean, deep in thought and I decide to announce my presence, give him a chance to come back to here and now mentally.

“You never did adjust to time change well,” Harry jumps to his feet as if I had burned him. I hold out the cup hoping that he will recognize it for the peace offering that it is. He is wary of me, and I can't find it in myself to be angry. I sit down wondering if he will sit with me. And he does. He warms his hands and blows gently on the black liquid. I remember very well how he takes his coffee, just like he remembers my dislike for tomatoes. And it is that what makes me man up and say what I need to say desperately.

“I need to know why you told Granger that you thought we could have made it.” I wonder if he heard me for a second. I haven't spoken very loud, almost afraid of chasing him of.

But he heard me even though his answer is evasive. “What does it matter? We had our chance and it didn’t work.”

“Why were you even talking about us?” I want to know, I need to know to be really honest. “It’s been three years. We both have moved on. Why would Granger bring it up?” I don' t look at him, to afraid of what I will find in his eyes. I draw runes in the sand. A habit when I am nervous.

He still fights me. “It doesn’t matter.”

I feel instinctively that I need to be stubborn now and try again. “But why—”

He laughs, but it is a weary sound “You sound like Hugo, why this, why that.”

He sips the coffee and his knuckles are white as he grips the mug tightly. I know he doesn't want to talk to me, maybe afraid of being hurt again, but I need to know so I resort to begging.

“Harry.” And there must be enough desperation in my voice because he begins to talk. He looks at the waves instead of me, but it doesn't matter because I listen intently, hoping for what I don't know exactly . “She asked me because she knows that I never moved on. As to why I told her that if it had just been you and I that everything would have been fine? Because it is true. You and me on our own? I'd never been happier, and I think you were, too.”

He is right alone with him I was happy. And I feel hope bloom in my chest at his words.

Harry laughs, but it sounds bitter. “Then everything went wrong. The bloody Prophet with their constant lies and deceptions. Everyone hating that we were together. The stares and Howlers, even hexes because they all think that I am public property, because of what happened decades ago.”

Yeah but that wasn't why I walked away. I am stunned. But before I can even begin to progress what he said he shakes his head

“I never should have dragged you into it.” He wants to get up, but I can't allow that. I am still baffled by what I just heard. “No.” he struggles a little but I am insisting now and he will listen to me. “How can you even think that it was your fault?” He looks at me starting to say something

“If I had—” but I had it. If he thinks that he is responsible for me walking out on us, well then it is high time to get all of it out in the open. At least then we both can be clear on why things have gone wrong between us. I tell him exactly why I left.

“Don’t. I don’t know what delusions you’ve been living under for the past three years, but it was not your fault. I did not leave because of the Howlers or the any of that other shite. I left because of what it was doing to you—”

“What it was doing to me? What are you talking about?” 

Harry clearly doesn't understand my reasoning and I continue to get it all out. “I did not leave because I couldn’t take handle what was happening. I left because it was destroying you . The Prophet with their faked stories and damning photographs. All the attacks on us. You weren’t sleeping. Your nightmares started again. And they were as vicious to you, as they were to me. I will always be a Death Eater to the Wizarding world and that isn’t good enough for their Harry Potter.” I can't believe that he didn't see that. And he wants to object, I know him, but he needs to hear me out. “The Prophet and the Wizarding world was not going to let us forget it. And you pretended you didn’t care, but I knew you did.”

“Merlin! Of course, I cared—” yeah he did and he left me alone because of it. I know I sound pathetic but I want him to know what made me leave him, because Merlin knows I would have never left if he still loves me.

“In the end you were hardly ever home, you never would explain where you’d been. And you wouldn’t tell you where you were going at night and I thought the worst of you.” not my best feat but when I remember the anger, fear of losing him and the lonely nights that I waited up for him only to have him shut me out again and again, it pours out of me. “I was convinced you were having an affair, that you were going to leave me for someone else. it was the only thing that made sense.”

The way he looks at me makes me feel two feet tall. “Someone else? I never would have—”

I try to defend myself and explain to him, “I know, but at the time with everything else happening I just wanted to have you with me and instead you were sneaking away at night and I was going crazy with not knowing...so I used the Veritaserum. Even though I knew it was wrong, I just couldn’t stand it any longer but as soon as I saw the expression on your face when you realized what I’d done, I realized how wrong it had been...” I am still ashamed of my actions, and I can't look at him. I feel a soft touch on my arm and he looks at me, his Adam's apple jumps as he swallows.

“I know you wouldn’t have done it if it weren’t for how bad things had gotten. If I could have told you what I was doing, I would have.”

That means that there was something going on at the time, I wasn't going crazy and I deserve to know.

“You’re going to tell me now.”

“Draco, it doesn’t matter anymore—” he tries to avoid me once more, but I have had it.

“Bullshit. It matters to me. Whatever it was...do you know what I thought? At first I thought you were cheating on me, and then I realized that you just didn’t want to be with me anymore, you’d realized—“ my voice breaks and I am tired of of pretending that it didn't matter. It hurt, still hurts and I allow for the pain to shine through fully for the first time since we are here.

“No. No,” Harry shakes his head vehemently “It was that damn Prophet . I was trying to stop those articles and it all turned out to be this man, Bainbridge. He masterminded it all: the articles, the fake photographs, everything. He was set on destroying you.”

I am confused, what on earth is he talking about? Since I don't know it I ask. “What are you talking about?”

He finally spills, “Bainbridge was unhinged. He’d lost his wife in the war and was on vendetta against anyone he saw as a Voldemort sympathizer, but especially you. I went to Ron and he said there wasn’t much the Aurors could do without evidence. I worked for weeks finding what was needed to stop Bainbridge—”

If only he had talked to me, I really don't get it. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t—”

It is as if a dam has broken and what he tells me makes sense but also makes me look like an utter fool.

“Because it was illegal! I broke any law that was in my way—I knew if I told you about it you would insist on helping and I couldn’t risk you getting caught. When I had enough, I told Ron, he convinced MacKenzie to bring in Bainbridge. I knew that after Bainbridge was put away the _Prophet’s_ hate campaign would stop, Bainbridge was the driving force behind it, and with him out they would go back to their usual drivel.”

I can't believe it, I was so convinced that my sacrifice was what made the press stop finally and I shake my head in denial. “The Prophet articles stopped when I moved out.”

He continues to get his side of the story out. “No. Bainbridge had been arrested that next day. I’d come home to tell you everything and it was already too late. You were through with me and all the baggage that comes with me being Harry Potter and I couldn’t blame you—”

“We were both idiots.” And that is the understatement of the century. I look at the man across from me, tired, defeated and the only one that I have ever really loved. Who am I kidding, I still love him, have never stopped. My hand moves as if it has a life of its own and I touch him gently. My fingers run over his face, getting reacquainted. All too soon Harry pulls back, he stands up and shakes his head.

“This doesn’t change anything, Draco.” He tries to get away from me, but I won't allow that, I scramble to my feet.

“What are you talking about?“ The fuck it doesn't change anything! ”It changes everything.”

“You don’t see it? There is always going to be another Bainbridge. They aren’t going to just let us live our lives. If we are together we just draw more attention to ourselves. It is better, safer, if we aren’t together.”

“That is crazy—” Now he is making me mad, how can he tell me that I would be better off without him?

“I’m not going to risk it. Without me, you can just be Draco Malfoy, Potion Master, but when people see us together, it is different, they get hung up on the fact that I’m bloody Harry Potter and can’t accept that I am with you. I can’t take a chance on anyone harming you.”

He is stubborn, but for once I am even more stubborn “You do not have the right to make that decision. You did not have the right to keep me in the dark with this Bainbridge character and you sure as hell don’t have the right to decide our future on something that may never happen. I decide if something is too risky for me, not you.”

“No.” He still protests against me, not having realized that my mind is made up. “I’m not willing to take that chance. I’ve lost everyone who has ever loved me, Sirius, Dumbledore, my parents. There is no way I am going to let something happening to you.”

“That isn’t your decision to make, ” I walk up to him, my beautiful, stubborn, wonderful, stupid Gryffindor, he needs to see how very wrong he is.“ And you are wrong, you have plenty of people who love you who are still walking around and considering how quickly the Weasley family is replicating, more every day. I don’t want to sleep another night not knowing where you are.” My arms are around his waist before he can get away from me. I have a confession to make, and I am sure that he won't throw it in my face I breathe his smell in and get it out. “It destroyed me, the other night when you left, that you would want to sleep up on that bloody cliff rather than even be in the same room as me.”

“I had to leave. If I stayed I would have...” Harry is not entirely comfortable with the situation, so much has happened and I know I wants to gather his thoughts, but I am not letting go until he asks me to. He breathes in and I feel him shudder. “I couldn’t have stayed away.” He sounds apologetic almost ashamed of his wanting me.

Time to be honest, if I want to get through to him and keep him I will have to act like a Gryffindor right now. “Do you have any idea how much I didn’t want you to stay away?”

“I seem to recall something about me sleeping in a tree, rather than sharing a bed,” Harry replies.

Of course he has to bring that up again. Deep down I knew that I would eat those words, but admitting my fault is easy when I have him so close to me. “I think you have known me long enough to know that you can’t trust everything I say in the heat of the moment,” I press a kiss against his neck, just behind the ear., one of his erogenous spots. I know his body in an out, fighting me is futile. He melts into me even as he repeats his protest,

“We shouldn’t do this,” but his arms tell a different story, enclosing me tightly.

“Why not?” I press close to him, revelling in the feel of his arousal against mine. He is close to giving in, trembling in my arms.

“But—” He tries to protest, but leans into me at the same time. I pull him to me and our mouths come together in a familiar dance, Having his tongue in my mouth is almost like having a cool drink of water after thirsting for months. I drink him deeply and his moans are music in my ear.

His body fits against mine like it always has. My hips press into his urgently, feeling him react. He pulls me closer, as if he wants to crawl into me. I am so hard that I fear my pants might burst, and he is not much better of.

He pulls me down with him on the sand, lying on his back as if he still remembers how much I enjoy being on top of him. I know that this will not take long, my body screaming for release, his legs wrapping around my waist, as if he wants to prevent me from leaving. As if I would leave when I have him back, his erection straining against mine. I want to feel his hair and burrow my fingers into it, kissing every inch of skin that I can reach feeling his whiskers against my skin, driving me wild. Soon I feel him arch into me and his whisper “Come with me, Draco.” pushes me over the edge and I cry out. Harry's face against my neck as he moans and comes as well. I am finally home again and I will keep him, if he likes it or not.

I press against him, while he rides out the last of his orgasm, He has sand in his face, and I love how he can simply let go and brush it away gently. After two days of not shaving his face is covered in stubble, but on him it looks simply amazing.

“Did I ever tell you how incredibly sexy your whiskers are?” I haven't, I know that and he laughs shaking his head at me before replying

“As I seem to recall you always made quite a fuss about making sure I shaved again before going out.”

Yeah, I did tell him that again and again and now I will come clean. “That is because,” kissing his jawline I continue, “I knew I couldn’t possibly spend the evening out with you and your five o’clock shadow and not want to climb over the table and molest you.”

“Draco,” he pushes me and I roll off to his side, but keep one leg over Harry, I want to feel connected to him. He looks at me warily. "What are we going to do?”

Right now I don't want to think about what we will face and I growl at him, hoping to distract him. “I hope like hell we are going to go up to that huge bloody bed and spend the rest of the day in it.”

“I meant when we get back,” he sits up, brushing of sand, “What are we going to do?”

So I will have to be very blunt with him here, I look at him sitting on the san looking lost. My hand reaches for him “I imagine I am going to have to endure Granger’s smug smile,” he grips it an I pull him up, telling him exactly what will happen later. “Then we’ll have a two-day row while I make certain that you know that under no circumstances will you be allowed to go off like a fucking knight in shining armour to rescue me from those who wish me harm. I am not anyone’s damsel in distress.”

He doesn't reply instead kisses me deeply and I rush to pull him towards the cabana. We both need a shower and then I want to fill my need for him, even though I doubt that I will ever be able to truly get enough of his body.

He speaks out what I have felt for the last three years and thought I would never have again.

“Wanted this for so long,” He looks at me intently and whispers “Didn’t think we would ever—“.

I need to stop him then and there, my need to finally feel him again is so big that I press my hips against his, and even though I try to hold back a little I can help but moan.

“If you don’t get a move on, I might be done before we even get started,” I state plainly since, he is driving me crazy with lust.

He moves in to kiss me but draws back all of a sudden, “Tell me that you brought lube.”

“Please.” even if I only planned on wanking I am always prepared, “I’m a potions master, it’s in the nightstand table.”

He looks so relieved I could laugh “Thank, Merlin.”

He pulls the drawer open, and sets out to prepare me. I crave his touch, want him inside of me and pull my knees up anticipating his fingers. We have had this dance so many times, it is so familiar and I look at him wondering how I survived the last three years without him His has the tube open and turns towards me, freezing, drinking my body with his eyes-but not touching and I so crave his touch. I am reduced to begging.

"Harry." I plead with him and he finally begins to move. I arch into his touch and get lost in the sensations of his body against mine. There is so much to feel I am overwhelmed, closing my eyes, meeting him thrust for thrust. When he finally spills inside of me I allow myself to fall as well. Drifting off to sleep I hold on to him, this is how it should be him next to me, wrapped around me.

  


**Day Four**

Waking up is never my favourite part of the day. Bird singing and the flapping of curtains pulls me out of pleasant dreams Harry is still next to me and so I just drag the pillow over my head. Still half asleep I grouse “Next time have Granger imprison us in a house that has walls and windows.”

“Hmmm.” I hear Harry's voice and the dip of the bed tells me that he has turned towards me. “You always were tetchy in the morning.” his hand strokes my back as if I am an overly large cat “Get up, I’m starved.”

Oh no, he will not play that game with me. My arse twinges a little and I retort “You get up. I think I’ve earned breakfast in bed. And coffee.” I steal his pillow as well and hide beneath it, wondering if he will indulge me. “And cast a Silencio to quiet those damn birds.”

The bed moves again and Harry gets up. For a few more minutes I indulge and stay under the covers, but when I hear Harry charm the water hot I turn onto my back and indulge in watching him.

He is a sight to behold. All that tan skin and taut muscles. He is naked as the day he was born and I revel in the ease that he displays. He turns towards the bed and hesitates, as if he doesn't quite trust the peace that we have achieved.

I want to help him relax, and so I joke. “I’m fairly certain there are safety guidelines against making coffee without pants on,”

He smiles pours the coffee, relaxed now, and shrugs as he states, “I’ve faced bigger dangers. Let’s eat out on the veranda,” A good suggestion, if it didn't mean that I have to get out of bed. 

But then he states simply. “You don’t like crumbs in the bed.”

“True.” That I do, so getting out of bed it is. Stretching my muscles I can't hide the wince at the sting in my backside, and of course he notices.

“Are you okay, I wasn’t too—” My Harry always concerned.

“I’m fine. Let’s just say it’s been a while.” I try to reassure him. Stretching again a little more carefully I feel the muscles relax When I look up I see his eyes linger on my body. I can't resist and walk over to him, still naked and I kiss him. He is delicious and I let him know.. “You taste like mango.”

He pulls me closer and I love the feeling of his naked skin against mine, he breathes me in and whispers. “You felt incredible.”

“You did to, worth every ache this morning,” I say and pepper kisses along his neck, I want him but I will need a little more time, to recover, “You make me feel like a damn teenager, can’t wait to have you again.”

His fingers tangle gently in my hair and I feel my body react to his touch. But he thwarts my attempt at seduction “Food first. We have to keep up our energy, we have a lot of lost time to make up for.”

We eat and afterwards I pull him back into the bed, we have a lazy shag, and cuddle in bed, I revel in his touch. But we can’t stay in bed, it just isn’t in our nature. He pulls me outside and we walk along the beach. Harry tells me about a mark that Sirius left on the rock where he spend the day without me. And I want to see, so he takes me to the side of the island.

After lunch we go for a swim. I cast all the appropriate spells to protect myself from the sun. Harry casts the Bubble Head Charm on both of us, we look quite a sight, if not to say absolutely ridiculous, but I want to see all of the fishes that live in the shallow waters above the reef.

I am exhausted after a couple hours and ask Harry to come back towards the veranda. He complies with my request. we settle on the chairs that I have put together, because even though we just plan on reading I want to be close to him. I reach out to touch him, wanting to make sure that he is real, that I am not just dreaming that we are finding our way back to each other.

Harry feels hot, overheated when I touch him and he flinches under my touch. I know now it is not disgust and I worry that he has hurt himself.

“What’s wrong?” I want to know.

“Nothing, just a little tender.” He tries to shrug it off, trying to pull his arm back. I have a suspicion and proceed to check. His skin is red and when I press down my fingerprints appear stark white on his skin. Oh damn it, he never takes care of himself.

“Please tell me you refreshed the sun protection charm while we were out swimming.” I worry, and I know he can hear it.

“What? Oh, no. I forgot, I guess.” He looks down at his arms, as if he is only just noticing that they are red

“You are radiating heat. You’re lucky if you didn’t get sunstroke. ”I need to get the lotion on his skin before it gets bad, I order him to lie down. “Get over to the bed.”

“What?” He sounds confused.

“We need to treat that sunburn or you are going to be agony in a few hours.” I have something that will help with bad burns in my potions box, but I probably will have to make something stronger.

“Draco, this is ridiculous. I’ve gotten sunburns before, it’ll be fine.” Of course he is not taking this serious, and I ask him “Have you gotten sunburns on Caribbean island somewhere near the equator walking around in just a pair of shorts not to mention swimming nude?” 

I don’t need to look at him, to know that he probably looks sheepish. I am sure that I packed something against sunburn, Merlin knows that I burn easily and know just how uncomfortable these kind of burns are. When I finally find it, I notice that it is not exactly what I was looking for, but then I thought I would go to New Zealand and not the Caribbean Sea. 

“This will have to do, if you are worse tomorrow, I’ll brew a stronger lotion.”

He still doesn’t understand why. “You’re overreacting.”

I am not, but it seems he needs a reminder just why I am not overreacting. “Harry, if there is one thing I know about after having to live with this pale skin of mine for the past forty years, it is that you have to treat burns early. Now, stop being a schoolgirl and get over to the bed.”

He looks at his arm. His skin is already turning red, and we have only been out of the sun for a couple minutes, if I don’t act soon he’ll be in agony. 

“Bloody, stupid Gryffindors. The entire lot of you are stark, raving mad.” I take his arm and put the lotion on his skin. 

“That feels better,” he sounds surprised, the idiot! As if I would deliberately hurt him now that I have him back.... “I guess I am a little—”

“Just get over to the bed, Potter.” I am a little annoyed, at myself for not taking better care of him and at him for not paying attention. But he walks over to the bed without arguing and strips. 

Before I can begin though he wants to know:

“What is that stuff?”

“Something you would never be able to create in a hundred attempts, be glad I’m willing to use it on you.” I set the jar down and take some gel out. He eyes me a little warily but I need to access his back, so I order him about once more.

“Budge over and roll over on your stomach.”

He complies and buries his face in the pillow when I sit down. I try to diffuse the situation by joking a little. “Just pretend like I’m your friendly neighbourhood potion master who makes house calls.”

He mumbles something into the pillow, I don’t understand it but he groans when I start applying the healing ointment to his skin in wide sweeping gentle strokes. His reaction is instant. He squirms a little and tries to keep from moaning, I even catch the telltale twitch of his hips as he presses his hips into the mattress. I know my teasing is a little mean but I can’t keep from laughing as I put the gel on Harry’s arse. Harry moans and I wonder if it is because the gel cools his burn or because of my hands. 

“Don’t squirm so much.” I apply more lotion and can’t help but get another dig in.. “You really should be more careful swimming in the nude. I would hate to think of this gorgeous arse of yours being out of commission.” Harry moves again and I know that he is hard, hell I am hard, but I can’t stop applying the potion, otherwise he will be in pain. So I continue my ministrations.

“You bastard,” He all but begs for me to touch him in a more intimate way, but I can’t. As much as I want to.

“Not until I’m done, until then, you are my patient.” I liberally apply the potion to his hips and the back of his tights. I use both hands to cover the expanse of skin, and I rejoice in his reactions to my touches. He grips the pillow with his fists and I know that he is fighting for self control. Only my iron self control keeps my own moans locked inside as I do his legs. I wonder if he still gets of on footmassages, and immediately set out to test the theory.

“My feet are not sunburned,” his protest is feeble, as he pushes his foot into my hand.

I laugh at that.. “I know, but I do remember how much you like foot massages. Consider it a reward for being such a good patient.”

“You’re killing me. You know that, don’t you?”

“Good, maybe you won’t forget the sun charm next time.” I know I am mean but he needs to learn to take care of himself. And I am sure there are worse forms of punishment. I reach for his other leg and he rolls his eyes. “Turn over.” I love being able to touch him.

He complies and just as I thought he is rock-hard. he strokes himself slowly and cajoles: “Why don’t we take a break, I promise to be a very good patient after—”

“Hmmm, I think you are trying to bribe your Healer.” I bend down and, when he sucks in his breath in anticipation, I grip his hands and push them over his head, then l give him a kiss that leaves him breathless. “It won’t work.”

“You could at least get undressed. Not really fair me being naked and you’re still fully clothed,” He twists underneath me trying to get loose, but I hold him tight. It does affect me oh yes, but he needs to understand that he needs to be treated, when I give in now, the skin that has not been rubbed down with the healing gel, will be tight and painful to touch tomorrow. And because I know that I am pulling myself together and straighten up.

“How many Healers do you know that undress to match their patients?” I ask.

Harry half moans my name. “Draco...”

The sun sets and I look my fill. For the first time since we arrived here I see a Caribbean sunset in all of its glory. Our room is filled with the rich colours of pink and orange, the light is magical in itself, the few clouds that paint the sky are crimson and violet. I am captivated and forget for a moment that I need to get on with the treatment.

Harry uses my momentary distraction and touches me.

I look down on him, lying on the bed, seductive even though his chest by now has the colour of lobster. His nimble fingers trace my ribcage, standing next to him my hips are pressed into his side. I continue to rub the ointment onto his chest and endure his gentle teasing touches.

“Who’s the bastard now?” I lean down to reach his face, a peeling nose would be painful. “Hold steady, I need to get your face.”

He protests, but I silence him quickly with my hand. Anointing his forehead and cheeks with more gel. “That stuff smells, you know.”

“Of course, it smells. Lavender. Lots of healing qualities in lavender.”

“It smells like old Mrs Figg’s house.” He is quite disgruntled, but I know that he is not really angry, just a little put out at not getting his way.

I smile at him and continue to smooth the ointment over his collarbone. “I always envied you this, you know.”

“You envied me my collarbone?” Now that does sound a little creepy.

“No, you prat, your gorgeous skin.” I continue to rub his skin, determinedly. “Even in school, you would come back from summer holidays with such a gorgeous tan.”

“Hmmm. I spent most of my summers either working in my aunt’s garden or hiding out in the park trying to avoid Dudley.” 

He fights for control as I rub his arms and hands, but I love that he is pliant under my hands. His cock is still hard and bobbing slightly.

“Yes, well, I learned that in due course, but back then I imagined you lounging on a beach somewhere with nothing better to do than deliberately tanning to irk me. If I spend an hour outside without a charm I would be pink and peeling.” I love hearing him laugh at the image and I smile down at him and continue, “And then you would come off the pitch after practice, your shirt half undone, and your skin glowing.”

“Must have irritated the hell out of you.” Harry laughs again, “Well, I envied you your hair. Always perfect. Never a hair out of place and—”

Oh please if he knew how much time I spend casting grooming charms and haircare potions, but I’ll not let him know that. “It is called a comb, Potter.” I say as I let my fingers dance along his jaw, my fingers playing with his whiskers. “And grooming charms. Which, thank Salazar, you never learned how to use—” Yes his whiskers are absolutely my undoing, the lotion has been absorbed in his skin and I begin to trace kisses along Harry’s jaw. 

He arches against me like a large cat and I am lost. 

“Does this mean you’re done?” 

There can only be one answer to this question.

“No, this means we’ve just begun.”

And we get lost in each other.

  


**Day Five**

We spend the next day lazing about, between sex and food and lounging about. Harry goes out for a swim late in the afternoon while I prefer to read. The cabana offers some nice books and I like the large comfortable chair. When I hear him come back, I am putting the book back where it belongs. I see that he is wet but not sunburned and joke

“No sunburn this time, I’m glad you learned your lesson,” He gets a kiss from me because he was so good. I indicate the table that I have prepared. “Let’s eat, I have supper all ready.”

I know what he sees is a little more romantic than what I usually do, but I want this to be perfect. I finally have him back and he loves crab salad on a bed of romaine lettuce and I have selected a dry white wine. I sit down across from Harry and remove the cooling charm. Harry must be thirsty because he takes two swallows. I am trying to decide how to approach the salad, I take a bite of the crab meat with the avocado and it is really good! “Delicious,” I let him know, and there is now way that Granger made the food. She is an ok cook but not this good!. “I’m thinking she must have had all the meals catered, I’m certain that this is from that new restaurant with the nouveau cuisine near the entrance to Diagon Alley. It is near my flat. I was hoping that you would want to move in there until we get things sorted out , it isn’t terribly large but—”

“Draco.” He interrupts the way that I am planning out our future, and I know that I won’t like what he will say. I try to brace myself but I am not quite sure what will come,

“I’m not going to move-in.” 

Ok that is a setback, I like my flat but if he would prefer to live in his, I need something to occupy my hand and pick the wine up. “That’s fine, if you prefer yours, I’ll give up mine and then we can start looking for—”

He interrupts me again. “Draco. I don’t want to move-in together. You keep your place, and I’ll keep mine. We can take turns—”

I can’t have heard that right “What?” I hope I misheard, but he confirms what he implied with his prior statement, “That way no one has to know that—”

I feel my cheeks heat with anger and I am fighting for control. “You want me to be your dirty little secret? You don’t want anyone to know that we’re together?”

He tries to explain. “We are going to have the exact same problem if we get together again, Bainbridge may be gone but there is going to always be someone else. I’m not going to risk your life on someone deciding to save me from you by harming you.”

Fuck his misguided Gryffindor tendencies, I need to stop this otherwise we will not survive another year, and if he thinks that I’ll let him go or that I’ll be his secret lover, I need to set him straight.

“I don’t give a Knut what anyone thinks. I haven’t survived twenty years with a Dark Mark branded on my flesh without growing a backbone and some pretty damn good shield spells. Do you think that I wasn’t the subject of hexes and curses before we got together?”

“But they got worse—” He tries feebly to defend his ideas.

“What does it matter? You are really going to hide our relationship behind doors so that people who we don’t even care about don’t find out? That isn’t you. Or it isn’t the Harry I thought I knew.” I am sick with worry and disappointment. 

“It isn’t that simple!” Harry gets up from the table protesting. “I’m just sick of the Wizarding world judging everything I do. I just want to live my life without—”

And that is it right? If he doesn’t understand where this is heading all of this will have been for nothing and so I say it out loud, “Without me, apparently.” I need to get out of the cabana, and I walk towards the water. I am shaking. Hoping that he won’t let me walk away a second time that he will follow and face the discussion we need to have, that we should have had three years ago.

“I want you, I want us, Draco.” his voice is soft, almost pleading.

I can’t give in on this. I sound harsh when I tell him what I think. “Forgive me, if I think otherwise. I am not going to hide the fact that we are together. I want to be able to walk into a restaurant with you holding your hand. I’m not going back into the closet for you or anyone else, for that matter.” 

“I don’t want to lose you, Draco. It is easy to say that all will be fine while we are here on this island, but when we go back it will be different. Everyone will—” Fuck, Bainbridge really did a number on him. I´ll try a different tactic then.

“You are a fucking coward, Harry Potter.” I stalk toward him, and he stands stockstill at the words that are pouring out of my mouth. “I never thought I would say it but there is no denying it.”

“I’m not a coward, it is the only way to—” He still protests and I up the ante.

“The hell it is. I’ve seen you do things that no one else would have the nerve to do. The Tri-Wizard. Voldemort. Even coming out to a public that would have just as soon you married Ginny Weasley and produce a litter of red-headed babies. You never had it easy but you never backed down, until now. And what possible conclusion could I draw but that I’m not worth fighting for?” I am fighting dirty now, but it seems to me that this here will take more than just a little stubbornness on my part.

“Draco—” He sounds lost and I let him known exactly when I decided to leave my comfort zone and risk everything for him, and I think I deserve that he will do the same for me,

“Do you know how hard it was for me to kiss you? That day out on the Quidditch pitch? I had been content to just let things be, I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, but at that moment I realized that I wanted to be more than just your mate, second best behind Weasley. And I decided to take the chance and risk it all, because I knew that you were never one to walk away from something you wanted.”

“This is different—” Oh for Salazar's sake, he is contradictory just because he can.

“How. Tell me how it is different. So what that people don’t like us. That is their problem, not ours. When did you start caring so much about what people think—” I am really baffled.

“When it started hurting you. That’s when it started to matter. I’m not going to risk you.” He ruffles his hair in frustration. “I don’t want anything happening to you.”

Ok now we are getting somewhere. “Do you think I want something to happen to either of us? Things happen, Potter. It’s part of life. It doesn’t even have to be because I’ve got a Dark Mark and you’re the Idiot-That-Lived. Brewing accidents, Splinching, Dragon Pox. Bad things happen, but it doesn’t mean that you give up.”

His voice sounds small when he tries once more. “But it also doesn’t mean that you should seek it out.”

I need to get that clear to myself. “How in the hell does you and I being together mean that we are seeking out something bad to happen?”

He looks at me and states quietly. “Do you know how many cursed packages were sent to us that were trapped in the wards around our flat? Hundreds.”

He might be right, but I will not allow him, to retreat behind fear. I remind him how we dealt with the problems that we had even three years ago. “And nothing happened! You took the steps to protect us with wards. Just like I made sure that I cast a shield on you when we went out. So why the hell do you want to give up?”

He sounds reluctant when he replies, “I don’t want to but—”

I am shaking my head at him. I think he still doesn’t understand what the last three years meant for me, hell what it means to have him back in my life. “I’m not going to let you sabotage what we have finally found again. The last three years were hell. You think you dwelled on what went wrong? I thought about it every night. We both made mistakes. I’m not going to let you sabotage what we finally found again. We’ll go back to civilization in two days and we will NOT hide that we are together.” I feel exhausted.

He tries to put his foot down. “Draco, I get a say in th—”

But I have had it with his hesitation, his fear, his misguided attempt at protecting us. "No. Not this time. If you insist in hiding, I will put a full-page ad in the Prophet that will lead no doubts as to my intentions with you, is that understood?”

I need to walk away, I need a minute to gather my thoughts, but I also want him to know that I want him to believe in us. “Supper is waiting and then I expect you to think of something to make up for being such an idiot.”

I hear him laugh and footsteps indicate that he is coming after me, I know I have won. Suppressing a smile I turn towards him. Only when we are back in the cabana he gives in. “You win, but if everything goes to hell then—”

And even then, I ‘ll not let him go. “Then we will come back here and live like castaways.”

  


**Day Six**

I find him brooding over the breakfast box, at the next morning. But I want him to focus on the things that we need to get done instead of pondering Merlin knows what.

“Stop brooding,” I embrace him, loving that I can do this. “Let’s eat and then we have work to be done.”

“Work? Is that what you are calling it these days? I guess the thrill has already worn off.” He tries to seduce me again, and even though I would love to give in we need to get some things done while we are here.

“You are insatiable. And there’s no time for that, we are going to take a horticultural survey of the island.” 

I am heating water and go about preparing the coffee, when he indicates that he has no clue what I want from him.

“A what?”

I explain. “When we were exploring the other day I realized that there are plants here that I suspect are much purer species than any other island in the Caribbean. I want to take samples and analyse them to be sure, but this island is likely a gold mine. Potioneers would give up their Gringotts vaults for the chance to—”

“No.” he rejects the idea, but it becomes clear that he is not adverse to the idea itself but that he is afraid of the possible execution. “We aren’t going to have hundreds of plant-mad—” 

If he thinks that I would subject our getaway to other people he is sorely mistaken and I tell him that. “Of course not. I don’t want anyone here but us, but if I can—” No that is the wrong way to say it, it is after all his island and he had the final say in it. “If you’ll allow it, when we come back next I would like to come back and transplant some of the plants to a greenhouse in England. I imagine Longbottom would be more than willing to surrender space in his.”

I can see that he wonders what I am on about, looking out of the expanse of green, where I see so many opportunities and he probably can’t see anything but green.

He asks me . “Why?” 

I try to put it simply. “Plants evolve just like animals do. These changes are accelerated by the introduction of non-native species, pollution, climate change. The Black family must have used powerful wards to protect the island from severe weather and Muggles, the same wards protected the plants. If we collect some samples today, I can send them to Longbottom to get his opinion.”

“So long as the island itself remains a secret. I’m holding you to the promise of us coming back here if everything goes to hell back home.” He shakes his head at me, but I know that it is more exasperated fondness instead of anger when he says. “Last day in paradise and you want to spend it snipping leaves off plants.”

If I have anything to say in the matter this will definitely not be our last day in paradise. This here will be our sanctuary.

\-----------------

  


I wake up because the bed is empty, for a second I think that he might have gone outside, but then the moonlight shows me his silhouette. He appears deep in thought and I fear that he is brooding again. I need to keep him from drifting off again and get up. Silently padding over the floor, I can make out the jar of Nutella next to him and the glass of milk. And then a floorboard creaks under me and he turns towards me with a welcoming smile.

“You always could smell chocolate from a mile away.”

I see that he has a pack of biscuits next to him. One is in his hand spread with the sweet stuff, that I love and I pick the one out of his hand.

“And you always get up in the middle of the night for a snack when something is bothering you,” I rarely indulge myself but Nutella is the weakness I allow myself, especially knowing how it affects Harry. I lick my fingers deliberately, gouging his reaction before going for the kill.. “You aren’t going back to your moronic notion of—” but he interrupts me immediately, shaking his head.

“No. I was just thinking about Sirius, and how long he was here. He must have come straight here from Hogwarts at the end of third year, and didn’t come back to England until the next February during the Triwizard.” 

I do the math quickly. “Eight months, then. Probably didn’t mind it after Azkaban,” I nibble at my chocolate sandwich. 

Harry seems not to be convinced. “But—”

“Remember how after my father was released, all he wanted was quiet and to be left alone. And he was only in for five years. Black did eleven.” I am done with eating and enjoy the sight of the water bathed in the moonlight. “And he wasn’t alone while he was here, the Hippogriff was here with him, of course, he is lucky he didn’t end up as the beast’s first meal here.” My arm still twinges a little as I remember the attack. Harry thinks I overdramatized what happened in our third year and I never told him that Pomfrey had to magically reattach a tendon. The cut healed without a scar which is the only reason, why I never said anything after the beast escaped. 

Harry smiles. “Haven’t seen Buckbeak since the war ended, I suspect Hagrid has him in the Forbidden Forest somewhere.”

“So long as he isn’t still here,” I turn back inside. “Come back to bed.” Harry wants to put the Nutella away, but I have something different in mind, calling out over my shoulder. “I don’t think we need to put that away just yet.”

And we both indulge with a lot of chocolate during the next hours.

  


**Day Seven**

Our last day passed with gathering more samples. Harry proves once again how reckless he can be by climbing up into a palm tree. I am still a little shaken, when Harry heads out for his swim. I try to gather my thoughts by beginning to pack. I stumble across the Portkey that brought us here. I remember that Harry never mentioned his emergency Portkey in the time that we have been here, and by now I am sure that he has forgotten that there is one in the emergency kit. That and I think that he secretly was happy after getting over the initial shock. The wooden box is plain, and I could have sworn that it was empty, when we got here, but now something rattles in it. Before I can open it though Harry comes back from his swim. 

“Thinking of leaving without me?” he quips and wraps his arms tightly around my waist. 

I enjoy feeling his warmth but can’t resist my own dig. “Don’t tempt me, I should, as a lesson to you. Why you thought you could climb a palm tree—”

He protests at my statement. “You said you really wanted a sample of the pollen.”

Of course, his attempts to please me might kill him one day, and where will we be then? “Yes. Remind me to be more specific next time and say that it would be nice, but not at the risk of your neck.”

In an effort to distract me Harry takes the Portkey away from me. It rattles again and he frowns. “Did you put something inside?”

I'm still puzzled but it is clear to me that only three people know about this box and could have put something in there. And since neither Harry nor I have done that I reply. “No, it was empty when we used it as a Portkey to come here, I checked it to make sure that Hermione hadn’t put a note in it.”

“Well, there is something in it now.” Harry frowns, looking for his wand. “I should check—”

“Whatever is in there is from Hermione.” that much at least is clear to me and so I take the box back and open it. But the thing inside opens more questions to me, than it answers. Harry shakes his head as if he can’t believe what he sees. Well at least he seem to know just what this thing is that lies there on a bed of velvet. It looks almost like one of the Muggle lighters that I saw in TV once when watching with Harry, one of the real fancy ones. 

“What is it?” I ask Harry when he makes no attempt at explaining this whatever it is to me.

“A Deluminator, Dumbledore’s Deluminator.” He chokes, there are tears in his eyes. “I’ve told you about how Dumbledore left it to Ron and that is how he found us.”

I remember the story. Ron found his way back to Hermione and Harry because he had a guiding light.

“This is it?” There are runes engraved in it, I would love to study them more in depth, but I am curious about Hermione's intention. Looking at Harry I want to know. “What is it doing here?”

“Hermione must have sent it. It is her and Ron’s most prized possession. I think she was trying to send us a message.” He looks at me with so much love that the answer comes easily to me.

“About being in the dark?”

Harry smiles and nods at the same time. “He never would have found us without it, and for them it is a talisman of their relationship. And a reminder of how close they came to losing one another.”

She is a smart witch, and a good friend. “So she wanted to give it to us our own reminder?” I think we don’t need it, or at least not that one and Harry picks up on my thoughts again without noticing.

“I’m sure it is just a loan, and we don’t need it, we have our own talisman. The island. If things go bad, we come back here and sort it out.”

These are the exact same thoughts that I have, but I have no intention to wait until things turn sour to return. “Even if things go good, we’ll come back.” I am right in his arms, where I belong, where I always belonged.

\----------------

  


The sun stretches towards the west, when we walk towards the beach. Our arms linked and I think that Hermione was right. When we were apart, we existed but only during the last six days have I felt really alive. Harry looks towards the cabana, as if he is afraid that he’ll wake up and everything was just a dream.

I whisper “Soon,” this here will be our sanctuary for all times. 

Harry nods and looks at the Portkey. It is almost time, as I know, since I have been checking the time again and again He turns towards me and I state the obvious. “It’s almost time. Ready?”

His wry smile touches me deep down “I don’t know of if I’ll be able to cope with Hermione’s smugness at her plan working but yes, I guess we have to go back and face the music.”

Yes but doing it together is more than alright. The Portkey drops us suddenly, but I know that Harry always stumbles, so I hold on to him. The office is silent, one could hear a pin drop. Granger stands by the window, hands clenched so tightly that I see her knuckles white. I look at the woman for a while, she deserves to suffer a little, just because of the first two days.

Harry is silent as well for a while, before she breaks.

“Well, what will it be? Am I headed to Azkaban for kidnapping or...” she sounds hopeful looking the both of us. I would not have any scruples to keep her in suspense for a while longer but Harry breaks easily. Well he has been friends with her for so long, that is ok. 

“We can hardly have Hugo and Rose visiting their mother in prison.” When he says that, Hermione squeals. I take a step back to avoid being hit, when she flings her arms around Harry.

“I knew it! As soon as I saw your whiskers, I knew it!”

“Hermione!” Harry is so embarrassed. He rubs his cheeks and I grin unabashedly. I love the whiskers and I will insist on him having them on every weekend and vacation from now on. I wrap my arms around him. 

“It’s true, I remember how Draco couldn't keep his hands off of you when you had a five o’clock shadow.” She smiles, but there is no smugness in it, there is just a genuine happiness in her eyes. I still want some answers though.

“You have a lot of explaining to do, Granger,” 

“Yes, but that can wait. I’m sure you two want to take advantage of the fact that you aren’t expected back in your departments until tomorrow.” Her grin is bordering on leering as she settles on her desk. That woman has more of a Slytherin tendency that I ever believed.

“How exactly did you ensure us both a week of unplanned holiday?” I am a little afraid of the answer. No matter how thankful I am, I do like my job and hope that I still have it. Her answer though makes clear that my fear is unfounded.

"After you left, paperwork was filed for emergency family leave, requesting a week’s leave.” She states it so self assuredly, I am astonished. 

I hear it in my own voice. “Granger, you can’t just—”

“Yes, yes. A gross abuse of my powers, not to mention kidnapping.” She shrugs. “But when you didn’t use Harry’s Portkey to come back—”

“My what?” Harry is so shocked, that I now know that he really had no idea about it. There was no plan or ruse on his part, just like I hoped. Who knows how this might have gone otherwise.

Hermione laughs outright at him “Your Portkey, in your emergency kit. I made sure you had it, so that if you really wanted to come back you would—”

“I forgot all about it.” Harry pulls the Portkey out and stares at it for a long time.

“How could you forget about it?” I am a little curious and shake my head in wonder.

“You knew I had it?” He looks at me puzzled. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

I won’t say out loud that I hoped that he was in on this entire thing in the beginning at that he wanted me back as well, so I say out loud.

“I found it after your fall and I went for the first aid kit. I assumed that you knew about it and since you hadn’t mentioned it, and I wanted to know why not.” I touch his face, tracing his lips gently. “Figures that you completely forgot about it.”

“I didn’t even give it a thought.” Harry sounds distracted and turns the ring in his hand. We still need to talk about a couple things it seems, because his sense of self preservation has not improved over the last three years, but I don’t want an audience for that.

“Right you, two. Off with you.” One might think we are children, when I look at Granger making shooing motions to get us out of her office, but Harry is not so easily deterred. He opens the Portkey and hands the Deluminator back to her. The words that he speaks come from both of us.

“Thank you.”

She touches the device gently before looking at the two of us. “Sometimes we all need a reminder of what is most important.” Putting it away she shoots us a wry look. “You can thank me by babysitting Hugo and Rose when I confess to Ron what I’ve done. I imagine it will be best to have them out of the house for that conversation. And at some point, I want all the details.”

Internally I wince. Ron will take a while to be convinced, but they have their own rituals to patch themselves up. To her last demand there can only be one answer though and I give it to her while we walk towards the door.

“Not all of them, Granger.” 


End file.
